The electric elegance of Ferragamo, Ferrari expands the story of Italian excellence
High and solid craftsmanship for Ermanno Scervino, the Ny of the nineties made contemporary by Luisa Spagnoli, the unabashed joy of Msgm
It may seem a contradiction, but in fashion lately, the body is often treated as a mere abstraction, rather than as a physical entity, made up of presence and movement. This is why designers who start with the body are surprising. This is the case with Rocco Iannone, who at Ferrari, now in his tenth fashion show, makes his most decisive stylistic gesture yet, far from automotive temptations or robotic constructions, to embrace drapery and a structured softness developed in dialogue and harmony with the body.
In this perspective, the suit exists in a state of balance, between second skin and protection, and the desire to operate in the high-end is evident. Authorising this is the fact that Ferrari is an Italian excellence and this forma mentis can be applied in whatever sphere the brand finds itself operating in. The result is up to scratch, the fashion is there, but the danger of over-intellectualisation looms large and would take Ferrari out of the perimeter.
At Ermanno Scervino there is no concept other than the everlasting assumption of making beautiful clothes that look good and are worth it because they are the result of great manual skill. It may sound old school, it certainly is, remembering however that classics are often the most progressive. Feminine beauty is celebrated in the most shared way, in a perfect balance of masculine tailoring sculpted on the bust by careful darts that create impalpable curves, and sensual petticoats, some made of laser-etched leather identical to delicate lace. The collection is summed up by an unprecedented but fascinating conjunction: loden coat and lingerie.
At Ferragamo, the body is barely touched by straight, svelte clothes that draw a graphic, snappy, modern figure. The test is one of the best by creative director Maximilian Davis, who returns to a topos that has fascinated him for a few seasons now: the 1920s. He does so in a non-literal and very effective way, grafting into the stylistic narrative signs and details taken from sailor uniforms, for formal declination and symbolic charge. Davis plays with order and disorder: the garments have buttons that allow openings and reconfigurations; the collars of the shirts are detached and possessed by forces that carry them this way and that. Over everything, a sense of electric, cadenced, off-register elegance.
Luca Lin, from Act No.1, works on classical bases, which he fluidifies, twists and deconstructs into a muddy-coloured unisex wardrobe that appears alive, lived-in, but without any affectation of truth as is too often the case in fashion. Hers is a new, fresh voice to follow.


